


Regatta AU drabbles

by accol



Series: Regatta AU [2]
Category: Generation Kill
Genre: M/M, Multi, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-14
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 22:52:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/842286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles in the "It's Pronounced Coxswain" verse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Anonymous asked: After class fucking in the changing rooms._

In Ray’s opinion, Walt started it… like  _always_.  It wasn’t like kissing up the back of Brad’s neck during a piggy back ride and then making a huge show of pushing Nate back on the locker room bench so he could grind on him was going to make rowing practice end any sooner.  Nate Fick didn’t get sweet talked out of reps by a blond dude sucking his tongue, nor did Nate Fick take any prisoners when it came to fucking a certain tattooed, mouthy, genius, smitten boyfriend either.

And let’s not even get started on Brad;  _that_  fucker just nonchalantly goes over and leans on the door while other dudes are banging on it to get in and shower up.  Because hell if someone is gonna interrupt his show while he jerks off into Ray’s towel…  _motherfucker, it’s his turn to do laundry_ , Ray desperately tries to remember as Nate turns his ass into a quivering heap of coxswain.


	2. Chapter 2

_beaumontinvestigations asked: any pairing from OT4, dry humping._

Out of the corner of his eye, Nate managed to see the incoming pillow and bat it away before it slammed into him and Walt where they were occupied on the couch; Nate was about to get decidedly more distracted, so just as well that Ray got his protests out of his system now.  
  
“Yo, we’re trying to watch the football,” Ray said; he was sitting on the edge of his seat, eyes flicking between the television, fourth down and 4 against Princeton, and the couch.  
  
“If they don’t want to watch, leave ‘em be,” Brad said.    
  
“Yeah, but I want to watch.  Both shows, I mean.”  
  
Walt had tackled Nate onto the couch about five minutes ago, jamming his tongue into Nate’s mouth and grinding down onto him during a commercial break; it had started because Nate wasn’t really watching the game and Walt mumbled something about “giving him something to pay attention to.”  The commercial was long over but Walt hadn’t stopped, so here they were on a lazy Sunday afternoon with the away game on the tv and Walt’s hand reaching down to grab handfuls of Nate’s ass for leverage.  Nate’s loose sweatpants meant he felt every inch of Walt’s dick through his jeans, the seam catching against his cock just right, while Walt panted against Nate’s mouth; he hadn’t come in his pants for years, but every rocking push of Walt’s hips sent Nate closer.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where’s Ray?"  

Walt had resorted to looking under the couch pillows even though there was no way Ray could fit unseen under there.  He looked a little lost without Ray clinging to him.  Or wrestling him on their threadbare rug.  Or chasing after him with a wooden spoon threatening to spank the cute right off of him.  Or reading them Trivial Pursuit cards while mocking the game creators for how pedestrian the questions were.

"Said we ran out of coffee when he got up around 6," Nate said, glancing up from his book and notes.  "Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him for at least," he pauses to glance at his watch, "an hour and a half."

"I’d ask what the worst he could get up to is, but I hate to even imagine the answer," Brad said.  He put down the pan of eggs and turned off the gas.  

Nate set his glasses on his now-closed book.  ”You take the square and then labs.  Walt, you take the docks and then run the river path.  I’ll take the grocery store and the bookstore.”

****

Brad found him messing around with a soldering iron and an ammeter in his lab.  He watched him through the door for a few minutes. Clever fingers building who-knows-what, but Ray was distracted.  The line of his brows made it obvious.

Brad texted the others:   _Found him. Lab. Meet here._

"Hey.  Where did you go?"  Brad’s question wasn’t about location.

Ray avoided the subtext.  ”Needed caffeine.”

"So you decided to melt all the metal in my lab?"

"First I drank an entire Dunkin Donuts travel carrier of coffee," Ray snarked.  

Brad was fairly sure Ray hadn’t actually done anything like that.  He’d tried to drink a gallon of coffee last year and it hadn’t ended well.  Ray was smart enough not to repeat a failed experiment when all signs pointed to the same outcome.

Brad pulled up a stool next to Ray and watched him work.  It was somewhere between a sculpture and a junkyard of wires, but it was probably genius.  It was easy to admire how naturally invention came to Ray.

Walt burst into the lab.  ”Oh, thank god.”

Ray didn’t look up, pouting at the little puff of smoke from the soldering job.  

Nate walked in after Walt and put himself at Ray’s back, hands solidly on Ray’s slumped shoulders.

"Is this like an intervention?" Ray mumbled.

"Does it need to be?" Brad asked.

"What, so I’m supposed to spill my heart out now?"

"If you want to," Nate said.

Walt swiveled Ray’s stool and climbed onto his lap, electrical cords be damned.  Nate closed in and Brad reached his hands over to card through Ray’s hair.

Ray could be quiet for a while.  They’d wait for him.


End file.
